


Lucky Number Three

by GraySonOfGotham



Series: Triplet Jokers AU [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Breaking and Entering, Disappearance, Fluff, Freeform, Happy Ending, M/M, Reluctant Working Together, Triplet Jokers, Triplets, casual fluff, drugged up, lots of frustration, teaming up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-04-23 01:34:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14321643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraySonOfGotham/pseuds/GraySonOfGotham
Summary: It's been three months since the Jokers' birthday party.It's been three months since Bruce has seen them. Well, not together at least. No, he's had several run ins with one Joker (he totally did not bother to tell the difference between them) at a time, probably paying Jay back his "owed" dance several times over.While Bruce convinced himself that he did not particularly want to see all three Jokers at once again, it looked like luck was not on his side.However, luck did not seem to be on the Jokers' sides either. After all, the only, ONLY, reason Bruce was tangled up with them all over again was because Jay had mysteriously disappeared. Jack was stuck in Arkham, loopy on new drugs. And John? Well, John had to suck up his pride and dignity and ask the Batman for assistance to save his idiotic brothers.*Sequel to Three Times the Laugh, Three Times the Fun





	1. The Jay That Flew Away

Bruce landed quietly in the dark alley, his cape fluttering silently to the ground around him. There was someone crouching on the other side of the Dumpster, breathing hard.

Bruce had followed the suspicious figure a couple blocks, never managing to get a clear view of them. He waited a few seconds, creeping around the side of the Dumpster, ready to jump out of the shadows, only to find no one there.

Bruce stopped, confused. There was a speaker placed on the ground, playing the heavy breathing noises and occasional shuffling. He had been tricked.

Suddenly, there was a sound behind him, and he whirled around, finding a gun pointed at his face. Bruce froze and narrowed his eyes. For a split second, neither of them moved.

Then, his attacker lowered the gun and stepped out from the shadows. Bruce tensed up.

“Now, now, Batsy,” Joker drawled. “No need to throw punches just yet.” He held his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m not doing anything.”

Bruce frowned. “Joker, what are you up to?”

He had gone back to calling the triplets ‘Joker’. They had not shown up as a trio since their birthday three months ago, so Bruce did not bother trying to tell the difference between them. They looked the same anyways, and it was always harder to tell when one’s face is splattered with blood.

Joker leaned against the wall, shrugging lightly. He did not respond for a while. Then he sighed. “Okay, fine. I need your help.”

Bruce was silent. He was not quite processing. “You… need my help. With what? Killing people? What can I do that you and your brothers can’t accomplish?”

Joker frowned. “Look, I’m serious. I need your help. I don’t know who else to ask.”

“What about your legions of minions?” Bruce asked sarcastically.

“Not with this,” Joker said, his mouth still turned down in a frown. It was unnerving to see Joker not smiling.

Curiosity finally got the better of the detective. Gruffly, he said, “What? I won’t promise I’ll help, but I’ll hear you out.”

Joker hunched his shoulders forward a bit. He looked at Bruce with a calculating expression. “Jay’s gone.”

Bruce recalled that Jay was the one that had left him with a bright, lipstick souvenir, and the one that had a rather unfortunate sweet tooth.

However, Bruce waited for whoever this was, Jack or John, to elaborate.

“He went to a meeting three days ago and never returned. I did not think too much of it at first, until he missed our Friday night karaoke. I spent the entirety of yesterday and today looking for him. Couldn’t find him,” Joker said. He did look a lot more haggard than usual.

“And your other brother?”

Joker narrowed his eyes at Bruce. “You shipped Jack off to Arkham two weeks ago, remember?”

“Hm,” Bruce mused. “Thought you would’ve broken him out by now.” So he was talking to John, the mastermind, the sarcastic and moody one. The unpredictable one… well, more unpredictable.

John sighed. “Arkham got new updates recently. I almost had it, but then I had to stop to find Jay. And the longer Jack stays in there, the more new drugs they pump into him, he’ll be off his game for a longer period of time when I finally do break him out. I have two brothers to save, and a criminal underworld to run by myself.” He sighed, then grinned wryly. “Unlike you, I’m not used to working alone all the time.”

Bruce thought over the situation for a long time. This was a good thing. Two of the three Jokers were out of the way. Bruce can easily capture John right now, and lock him up as well. Then, he can break up the rest of the criminal underworld with no one running it before Jack and John inevitably break their way out.

It was perfect.

But Bruce paused. His mind went back to something John had said during the Jokers’ “birthday party”. _You know, Batsy. You and I? We’re not so different._

And looking at John standing there, brooding and dark, Bruce realized that he might be right, as much as it pained him to admit. While he was a murderous psychopath, Jack and Jay were his brothers, his family. And if Bruce knew anything about the Jokers’ personality, it was that they were proud of their work. And for John to admit that he needed help, especially from the Batman?

“I don’t always work alone,” Bruce finally grunted.

~

“Okay, tell me the situation again? From the top. Tuesday morning,” Bruce said, his eyes trained on John, who was pacing from one side of the room to the other.

It was around the time Batman usually turned in for the night, but Bruce had allowed John to drag him back to one of his safehouses, blindfolded, of course, and made John go through every detail of the past week approximately five times already.

“I already told you everything!” John practically screeched. He threw a stapler across the room at Bruce, nearly missing his head. Bruce had a feeling he meant to miss purposely.

“Yes,” Bruce said patiently. “But sometimes, when we go over it enough, we will find something new.”

John glared at him and sat down hard across from Bruce. He frowned at him for a  long time. Finally, John spoke again. “I have a new idea.”

Bruce, who did not have the cowl on at the moment, raised an eyebrow.

John scoffed. “Not all my ideas involve death and murder and illegal activities, okay.”

The other eyebrow joined its twin.

“It just so happens that this one does.” John cleared his throat and cut Bruce off before he could interject. “We’re going to break Jack out of Arkham.”

“Wh- I’m sorry, _what?_ ”

“You put him in there. We can’t do this without him,” John concluded.

“And why can’t we?” Bruce asked, clearly irritated. “I am not about to break someone out of a prison I put them in.”

“Because he might remember something I don’t. While I may be the smarter of my brothers, Jack is more intuitive. He _knows_ things,” John said. “He’s useful.”

Bruce shook his head and rubbed his temples. It was like working with his kids again. “Pray tell, what is ‘he _knows_ things’ supposed to mean? What, can he smell out your missing brother like a dog? Can he wave his hands over a scrying bowl and say some mumbo jumbo and a clear image will appear?” He could help the sarcastic tone in his voice.

“You know, I’m starting to remember why I hate you so much.”

“Trust me,” Bruce grumbled. “The feeling’s mutual.”

There was a moment of tense silence. The two glared at each other, neither looking away. It was almost as if neither of them was breathing.

John broke the silence. “We’re doing neither of them any good seething at each other.”

Bruce grunted.

“So will you help me or not? I’m not going to beg, so this is as much as you’re going to get from me,” John said.

Bruce narrowed his eyes at John, staring at him intently. “What do I get from this? Why would I want three Jokers running around my city?”

John shrugged. “There isn’t much difference three or one. You always thought it was just one of us, after all. And you kinda owe Jay.”

Bruce tensed. “How so?”

John shrugged. “A few years ago? The Colossus virus?”

“That was him?”

“Well, it sure wasn’t me. And Jack… Jack was on a secret mission someone in Australia. He didn’t even hear about Jay’s condition until three months after you both returned.”

“I don’t owe him anything,” Bruce bit out. “It was mutually beneficial. I saved his life as much as he saved mine. We’re even.”

John finally sighed. “So you can’t find it anywhere in that big, black, bat heart of yours to possibly save a life?”

Bruce narrowed his eyes. “Why… do you think he’s in mortal danger?”

John rolled his eyes. “Uh, duh. I’m pretty sure, given the chance, anyone except for you would kill the Joker, saving the city from peril and probably be written as some hero in the news.”

Bruce had not thought about that. Could Jay really possibly die? He sat there, a bit stumped and lost in thought for a few minutes.

Finally, John broke through his thoughts. “At least for old times’ sake?”

Bruce glared at him and grabbed his cowl. He shoved it over his head and stood up. “If we’re doing this,” he said. “We’re doing it my way. No breaking into anywhere. I’ll get him out.”

John grinned, the typical Joker-esque grin spreading wide across his pale face. “Great! Let’s get going!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know a lot of people who read the first story probably won't read this story because I said I may not write a sequel, but I hope you read this!
> 
> Leave me a comment, pretty please! <3


	2. Jack Be Nimble

Bruce walked into Arkham Asylum, dressed as Batman. He had left John outside the gates, in the car. Bruce had hacked into the security cameras and tweaked it so that they would coincidentally turn away from where he would be.

The nurses and guards working the night shift were a little harder to deal with. So far, Bruce had successfully avoided most of them, ducking into closets or behind a desk whenever someone neared. When he got to the higher security areas, Bruce put on the guard uniform. He packed his Batman gear away into a large black backpack, and left it in the shrubbery outside an open window.

Calmly, Bruce walked down the halls, nodding at the guards that passed, making sure his cap was pulled down low, but not suspiciously low. Just enough to shadow his face. He turned down the hall towards the Joker’s usual room. There were two guards standing at the end of the hall and two in front of the door.

Bruce cursed silently. He couldn’t say that he was relieving them, not all four of them. Luckily, a nurse walked by at that moment. She was carrying a tray with three pill bottles on them. A peek over her shoulder, and Bruce saw the patients name on the label. Patient J.

With a quick movement, he knocked her out cold and left her in an empty closet, taking the tray and the pills. Hopefully, this would work.

He strolled down the hallway towards the first two guards. Predictably, they stopped him.

“Where are you going?” They asked him.

Bruce grunted. “Nurse Jacintha told me to give these to the patient.” He made his voice lower.

The guard eyed him suspiciously. “Where’s Nurse Jacintha herself?”

Bruce shrugged. “She shoved the tray at me, told me to deliver them to the patient and ran off. Something about a family emergency.”

“Why didn’t she just find another nurse?”

“I dunno, man,” Bruce said, trying to sound exasperated. “I’m just doing what I think should be done.”

The guard stared at him for a long time. Finally, he said, “Fine, give the pills here. We’ll deliver them to the clown.”

The guard reached for the tray and grabbed it. Bruce didn’t let go.

“What’s your problem, man?” the guard asked, looking up again. Bruce took this moment to bring the tray up hard, smacking the guard upside the head. He then smacked the other guard over the head and both of them crumpled to the ground.

The two guards in front of the door turned towards the noise. Bruce ran quickly down the hall, punching one man in the stomach and knocking him out with a few well-placed pinches to certain pressure points.

The other, he slammed his head against the wall, and the man slumped like a wet noodle.

Bruce regarded his work with a frown. Damn, he could not believe he was actually doing this. This is completely crazy. Bruce sighed, stooping over and grabbed the ring of keys from a guards belt. It was rather easy to find the key that belonged to the door. After all, it was painted red, and it had a large J on it.

Bruce fitted the key into the locked door and turned it. A moment later, he pulled the large, metal door open slowly.

Inside, the walls were completely white, but when Bruce looked closer, he realized that the walls had probably been painted over several times over, and not very diligently.

Underneath the coat of white paint, there were many scribbled drawings, and large _HA HA HAs_ written in red. Inside the room, there was only a cot, screwed into the concrete with huge bolts.

Lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, and humming quietly to himself, was Jack.

He had his arms crossed over his chest, even though he did not have a straitjacket. His left wrist was handcuffed to the bed, so his position was rather awkward. He was still humming when Bruce walked in, not seeming to notice the new presence in the room.

Bruce stood there a bit awkwardly. Then, Jack spoke.

“Is it already time for the next dose, Molly?” he asked the ceiling. “I swear I had my most recent dose a few hours ago! I promise! Julie even checked!” He giggled. “I know because there are still fishies on the ceiling!”

Bruce grunted. “He wasn’t kidding when he said you’re as high as kite.”

“Kites? I like kites,” Jack said softly. “They’re pretty.”

“Right.” Bruce walked over and grabbed Jack, pulling him into a sitting position. Jack’s eyes fell on him. His pupils were blown wide. He smiled.

“Batsy! Have you come to visit me! Oh, Molly, your little drugs let me see Batsy! Isn’t he handsome?” Jack sang, stroking Bruce’s stubbled cheek rather fondly. “So strong and dark and handsome…”

Bruce broke the handcuffs with a tool he’d snuck in under his guard uniform. “C’mon, stand up, Jack.”

Jack gasped. “OOOH! YOU KNOW MY NAME!” He suddenly lowered his voice and leaned in, standing on his tippy toes, rather wobbly, and whispered in Bruce’s ear, “Molly, you bad girl,” he said, his lips brushing against Bruce’s ear a few times. “Harley sent you, didn’t she? Ah, you’ve got to thank my girl for me,” Jack said, tossing his head back and laughing hysterically. “I’m… I think I’m going to clock out for a little while, Batsy,” he said, patting Bruce’s chest twice. “Make sure you’re still here when I wake,” Jack murmured. “Otherwise, I’ll know they’ll come with more drugs soon. I really… hate those drugs…”

And with that, Jack slumped in Bruce’s arms and started snoring gently. Bruce shook him, but Jack just flopped against him. Bruce sighed and shook his head. He hefted Jack over his shoulder, only mildly alarmed at how light he was. Was the prison not providing enough food? He’d have to look into that.

Bruce walked casually back out the way he came. No one stopped him. He did not even run into anyone else. It was almost too good.

He grabbed the black backpack as he left. A nurse did unfortunately turn around a corner at the wrong time, and Bruce had to knock her out as gently as he could with one arm.

He exited through a back door and made a wide circle back to the John’s car. The window rolled down as he approached. John peered out of the blacked-out windows and raised his sunglasses. Bruce nearly rolled his eyes. It was the middle of the night. Who needed sunglasses?

John’s green eyes narrowed and he sighed. “Toss him in the trunk,” he said before starting to roll the window up again.

Bruce blinked. “The trunk?”

John stopped and made an exasperated noise. “Yes, the trunk, Batman. And make it snappy.”

Bruce did not move. “But why the trunk? There’s more than enough space in the back!”

John pulled a face. “He drools when he sleeps,” he said. “In case you haven’t noticed, Mr. Greatest Detective, I have alcantara seats. Very expensive, very hard to clean. I don’t want drool stains on them. Toss him in the back.”

Bruce narrowed his eyes. “He’s- You can’t just-”

John gave him another exasperated look. “You’re not going to start lecturing me on morals, are you?”

“It’s not safe!”

“Seriously? Safety is a weak argument.”

Bruce shook his head. “I’ll hold his head, if you’re so worried about your interior.”

John gave Bruce a hard look. “You’re not honestly considering it, are you? Because I swear, if I find _anything_ on my seats… you should start writing your will.”

Bruce pulled open the back door and slung Jack into his arms. He lowered himself into the back of the car and set Jack’s head on his lap. Jack kept snoring peacefully. Bruce closed the door, and met John’s eyes in the rearview mirror.

John sighed and looked away, starting the car. “You’re weird, man.”

The whole way back to the safe house, which John decided to let Bruce know the location of, Bruce kept one hand on the side of Jack’s head. Bruce had a feeling John drove quickly over rougher areas in the road just to make Jack’s head roll back and forth, to spite Bruce probably.

But Bruce just glared at him in the mirror and held Jack’s head a little tighter.


	3. Along Came A Spider

After Bruce had tucked Jack in, yes, he had to _tuck_ him in, he met John back in his own room.

“Alright, so you successfully made me break into Arkham and broke out one of the most dangerous criminals in my city. Now what?”

John did not respond. He kept typing on his computer. Bruce cleared his throat loudly. John sighed and looked up.

“I think I have an idea where Jay is,” he finally said. He did not say anything else.

Bruce gestured. “Okay? You want to tell me?”

John’s look hardened. “I don’t know if I…”

“If you can what?” Bruce asked. “Trust me? _You’re_ the one that asked me to find your brother. _You’re_ the one that dragged me into this in the first place! If you didn’t want me help, maybe you shouldn’t have asked for it in the first place. You know, I could’ve lived a very nice life knowing I didn’t break some psychotic murderer out of a prison!”

John glared at him. Bruce glowered back at him. Then, Bruce decided he did not want to deal with it anymore. He spun on his heels and whirled out of the room, slamming the door as he went. The minute he stepped out into the long hallway, he ran into Jack, who had been holding the wall to walk.

Bruce pushed past him roughly, ignoring the hard grunt and the quiet “ow.”

He grabbed his black backpack as he went, making sure to make the door frame shake as he stomped out of the safe house.

He got changed in a back alleyway. As he grappled his way across the skylines, beating up a few muggers to release some energy, Bruce started thinking about it himself.

Why had he even agreed to help John in the first place? He had been trying to get rid of the Joker for as long as he could remember. Bruce was going soft. He could not afford to do such a thing.

He entered the bat cave from the back entrance, stomping through lit hallways.

He shucked off pieces of his suit as he went, throwing the pieces on the ground. Alfred could deal with them.

As the doors to the manor opened, Bruce stopped in his tracks. Alfred was standing in front of him, arms cross, mouth turned down in a disapproving frown.

“Master Bruce,” Alfred said, “Is this your way of telling me that you want me to change the carpets?”

Bruce glanced down.

Lying a couple feet away from Alfred’s feet, was a mangled mess of a body. But despite all the blood and bruising, Bruce knew who it was. In a flash, he was on his knees, blood seeping through his pants, as he gently turned the pale face up towards him.

For a moment, Bruce thought he was dead, but then the corner of the lips turned up for a brief moment.

“Hey, Batsy,” came a breathless, whispered greeting.

Bruce gently smoothed the matted green hair out of his face. “Damn it, Jay,” Bruce growled. “What the fuck are you doing here? Your brothers are looking for you, and you show up here half dead? How the hell did you even get in without Alfred noticing?”

Alfred cleared his throat. “Oh, I knew,” he said. “But I’m assuming it’s your fault he knows who you are, therefore, you should deal with scrubbing the blood from the drapes as well, Master Bruce.”

Bruce glared at his butler. “Please help me, Alfred.”

Alfred pursed his lips. Then he sighed and knelt as well. “You owe me a vacation, Master Bruce. I plan on spending two weeks in France this time.”

The two of them carefully carried Jay into a spare room and set him on the bed. Alfred fetched a tub of warm water and a washcloth. Bruce helped him gently sponge down the clown, who was unconscious again.

Bruce sat down by Jay’s bedside once had had changed out of his bloody clothes. He looked at Jay, his chest rising and falling slowly and shallowly.

He should tell John that Jay was here. But he wanted some answers first. None of it made much sense.

John claimed to have needed Jack’s help to find Jay, and then he did not trust Bruce with the possible location of Jay. And Bruce comes home to find the missing brother dying on his carpets?

Bruce did not notice that Alfred had come into the room again until he heard the door close after he left. There was a tray with a cup of water, some tea, as well as a sandwich on it. Bruce could not help but smile wryly. Thank the heavens for Alfred.

Then, Jay seemed to come to. He gasped lightly, and his eyes fluttered open, squinting for a moment.

Bruce sat down slowly beside him. Jay sat up slowly, pushing himself into sitting position, glancing at the bandages and flexing his heavily wrapped fingers.

“Jay.”

Jay turned to look at him, with the same squinted eyes, as if he could not really see him clearly. “Batsy? I…”

“What do you remember, Jay? Your brothers have been looking for you,” Bruce said. “You’ve been missing a while.”

Jay screwed his eyes shut and then forcefully opened them again, taking a deep breath. “I don’t… I don’t remember. Much.”

Bruce hated memory losses. It just made his life _that_ much harder. “Okay, what _do_ you remember? How did you get here?”

At this, Jay smiled. “Oh, I escaped. And I don’t know, it’s all, ahem, kinda a blur after that.”

“Escaped, from whom?”

Jay giggled, and it ended up in a harsh cough. Red tinged the edges of his dry lips. Bruce wordlessly handed him the cup of water. Jay accepted it and took small sips. There were no usual lipstick stains on the glass. The red of his lips was actually natural this time around, which made Bruce wonder how long Jay had been gone.

“I don’t remember, silly,” Jay said, setting the glass down. “If I had, I wouldn’t I have answered your question?” He reached for the sandwich and took a big bite. Before he even finished chewing, he took another bite. It made Bruce a little worried how fast he was eating. Even Jason never ate that fast.

Bruce sighed. “So you got kidnapped?”

Jay shrugged.

“How do you not know if you got kidnapped? Can you at least tell me where you escaped from?” Bruce asked, a hint of exasperation seeping into his voice.

Jay stopped chewing and looked at him. He blinked a couple times before swallowing. He lowered the sandwich from his face. He let his hands rest in his lap, looking down for a moment before speaking again. “I remember sitting on top of Cornwall’s Bank Thursday night, after a meeting.” The corner of his lips flickered up for a microsecond before flattening out again. “I was waiting for you, actually. I can’t remember if you showed up. I can’t remember anything after that. Until a few hours ago. I woke up strung up to a board. One of the straps were slightly loose, so I broke out and ran.

“I don’t know where I was, in the middle of the forest somewhere. I thought I was a goner. But then, I see your house in front of me, so I climbed through an open window. I don’t remember anything else.” Jay sat there silently for a few moments more. Bruce waited for him to tack something on to the end, but he never did. Jay looked up at him. “Look, I’m sorry I tracked blood everywhere, and whatever. And you’ll probably have to toss out the entire bed now.” The sandwich was set aside. Jay threw the covers off of his legs and he moved to stand.

Bruce opened his mouth to say something, but Jay held up a hand.

“Look, I get it, Bruce.” Jay shrugged. “I’d feel the same in your position.” Then, he walked out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

Bruce’s eyebrows knitted together. What the hell was _that_ supposed to mean? He look at the messy covers, that were spotted with blood here and there, and bits of tomato juice and bread crumbs also littered the bed. Bruce sat there for a little longer, pondering over what Jay had said. None of it made much sense.

But if Jay had managed to run to his house without bleeding out, his location had to have been close by. Within a few miles, at least. And he had mentioned a forest, and seeing that Gotham was a rather building heavy city. The only forest that was large enough to hide anything had to be the ones behind Gotham’s estates. They were about ten miles of forested land, thick and foreboding. Rarely did anyone go inside, and if they did, they would stay towards the edges of the forest.

“Damn it, Jay,” Bruce muttered, standing up. He walked briskly towards the door and opened it. He headed down the hallway, running quickly down a set of stairs before running to Alfred. “Alfred, where’s the Joker?”

Alfred gave him a puzzled look. “He walked out ten minutes ago, did he not? He said he had ‘business’ to attend to.” Alfred paused a moment, shifting a basket of laundry on his hip. “Then he thanked me for the food and water. And since you did not come running down the stairs after him in as Batman, I assumed you allowed him to leave, which I cannot fathom why.”

Bruce groaned and ran towards the front door. He yanked it open, and looked out. There was one long road from Wayne Manor to Gotham, and from where he stood, Bruce could see the entirety of it. And nowhere along the road was there a man dressed in a bright purple suit and sprouting a shock of green hair.

“Damn it, damn it, fuck,” Bruce muttered. He raced back into the house. Flying past Alfred again, Bruce ran down into the Batcave.

He glowered at the pieces of the Batsuit that he had left all over the floor. He scrambled around, picking them up as fast as he could. So much for letting Alfred deal with it. As he was gathering up the cape and the cowl, a light pattering of feet came up behind him.

“Father,” came Damian’s voice. “I shall be staying the weekend at Grayson’s apartment. He wanted-”

“That’s great, Damian,” Bruce said hurriedly, shoving the suit together. “Grab my gauntlets for me, will you?”

Damian hands the gloves over. “What are you in such a hurry for?”

Bruce just shook his head. “Hopefully something that’s not a lost cause.” He jumped into the Batmobile and with a roar, he was off, leaving Damian behind him, Bruce’s other gauntlet dangling from his fingers.


	4. Jack But No Jill

“What the hell!” Bruce growled loudly, pounding on the door again. “Open up, John! I know you’re in there!”

Still nothing.

Bruce banged on the door loudly again. “Open the door! I found Jay!”

The door swung open, Bruce’s hand still suspended in the air. John stood there, his eyebrows raised, mouth twisted in a frown. Once again, Bruce is a bit shocked at the similarities between the triplets. For a millisecond, he thought that Jay had recovered, free of cuts and bandages.

“Well? Where is he?” John demanded.

Bruce pushed past John before he could slam the door in his face. “I _did_ find him, but… then he left.”

John sneered. “Because that does me so much good, doesn’t it?”

“He did tell me some things before he left. I found him bloody and beat up, and I bandaged him up before he ran off, so maybe it will do you some good to listen!” Bruce yelled.

John’s frown deepened. “I doubt there’s anything you can tell me that I haven’t already figured out.” He turned and walked back towards his room. Bruce was left flabbergasted and gaping after him.

As John’s door slammed closed, Jack’s door opened, and he peeked out.

Bruce scowled at him. Jack shuffled sheepishly down the hall and into the “living room” area of their safehouse. “Um, tea? We probably don’t have whatever types you usually drink, but…” He trailed off into silence. Bruce did not stop glaring at him. “Okay, no tea. Sit at least. Then, I wouldn’t feel like a horrible host.” He gestured to the overly plushy sofa, and he took the ugly green armchair drawing his legs up as well.

Bruce slowly lowered himself onto the sofa.

“So, you saw Jay?” Jack asked quietly. He seemed a lot less drugged up than before, which was a good thing, Bruce thought.

Bruce nodded slowly. “I did.”

Jack was silent for a moment. “How was he?” He finally offered.

Bruce as slightly confused. Did Jack not want to know where his brother was? It sounded more like he was asking after an old friend or something. “He was… not good, truthfully. I mean, I sure he’s been worse, but, he’s not dead. I don’t know where he is, though.”

Jack nodded slowly. “John isn’t always that… scream-y, just so you know. Since Jay’s been missing, he’s been a bit more frazzled.” Jack smiled softly. “He’s like a mother hen, if you will, but a very protective, very angry, very overdramatic mother hen.” His smile turned a little sad. “He thinks it’s his responsibility to make sure we’re safe. You might find it absolutely crazy, but he worries when Jay or I do something that is even reckless for us. And then we get told off. Usually while someone stitches us up, or pulling bullets from wounds.”

Bruce let out a surprised snort. “You’d actually be surprised how much I can relate to that.”

Jack did look pretty surprised. Then he smiled a little. “Well, with so many sidekicks running around, I can kind of see the bossy parentage side come out.”

Bruce opened his mouth to correct Jack, but then he realized that he was right. “Well, I was actually referring to my butler, but I guess that also applies to me.”

This time, Jack’s eyebrows shot up as well. “Oh? Batsy gets told off as well?”

Bruce could not help but laugh. “Oh yeah. Along with the scariest disapproving frown to ever walk God’s green Earth.”

Jack laughed, the usual bone-chilling, shrieking peals of laughter that made Bruce’s blood boil. Instead, this time, Bruce found himself smiling as well.

“Wait, wait, does he also do the hands on the hips thing while standing over wherever you’re sitting or lying?” Jack asked, wiping at his eyes.

Bruce grinned, genuinely relaxing more. “Wait, I’m not the only one?” He started laughing as well. “Wow. Just… wow.”

As their laughter died down, Bruce found himself feeling a little unsettled. He just had the most civilized conversation with a villain, ever.

He quickly cleared his throat. “So what are you planning on doing about Jay? John said you’re intuitive.”

Jack’s smile slowly faded. He looked at the wall behind Bruce, his eyes slowly unfocusing.

“Did he?” He asked softly, almost as if he were talking to himself than to Bruce. “Hm. I didn’t think he ever noticed.”

“Noticed what?” Bruce asked. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.

“Every once in a while, when something is wrong, I get this weird feeling. Most of the time it’s right. And I would tell John, but I always thought he dismissed me since there was no science or fact backing it up… But he listened,” Jack sounded a little awed. “That time I was in Australia, I had felt something was wrong with Jay. I was only supposed to be on the mission for a week and a half, but I was there for over three weeks because I had been very unwell. There was nothing physically wrong with me, but I just… I felt like my mind was only weakly connected to my body. I could not move my fingers when I wanted to, I could not get out of bed when I wanted to, but sometimes I would wake up walking down stairs and then would be stuck at the bottom of the stairs because I could not move again. That was worst time. Other times, it’s just headaches, blurry vision, back aches. Nothing too bad.”

Jack’s eyes flickered to Bruce for a moment. “It usually happens with Jay, sometimes John, and a few times, even Harley. But I remember, there was once… it happened with you.”

Bruce’s eyes widened. “Me? You… felt that I was in trouble?”

Jack nodded. “Yeah. It was the strangest thing. I had been just lounging around Gotham as I did every other normal night, and I wasn’t even doing anything illegal. Out of nowhere, it felt like someone had snapped my fingers one by one, and I had a huge headache building. At first, I thought Jay had gotten into trouble, so I went to find him. He was fine, so was John, so was Harley. Everyone I could think of was fine. It wasn’t until the next day, on the news, that I heard about an accident Batman had.”

Bruce took a moment to take that in. Then, he decided not to comment on it. “So, what are you feeling about Jay?”

Jack looked back at the far wall and its mismatching wallpaper. “That’s the thing. I don’t… I don’t feel anything right now.”

“But he was nearly dead!” Bruce said, confused.

Jack nodded. “I know. I think it was the damned drugs that’s got my senses all mixed up, but… I honestly do not feel anything wrong at the moment.”

Bruce’s eyebrows knitted together. “Are you sure? He told me he had escaped from someone, and he was all bruised and battered. And then he just walked out on me. I would’ve thought that he would come here, you know, see his brothers, but he didn’t.” He frowned deeper. “I just can’t figure out why.”

Just then John’s door slammed open. His hair was a mess, but his mouth was turned up in a wild grin. “I got it.”

~

“Wait, run this by me again? I don’t think I got it the first time,” Bruce said as he was shoved into the back of a small, black car.

John have Bruce an exasperated sigh. “Keep up, old man.” He sat down in the driver’s seat and started the car. “Jay couldn’t remember anything, right? And you said he was acting like his usual self one moment, and the next, he wasn’t, right?”

He pushed down on the pedal and they zoomed off of through a narrow alleyway and onto a large street. They nearly ran over some cars, to which Bruce cursed and gripped the seats in front of him. Jack whooped and John laughed.

“Anyway,” John yelled over the roar of the engine. “I think, Jay remembered something, but knowing Jay, he probably left to, as naïve and idiotic as it sounds, protect you.”

“What?!”

“I know. Stupid, right? A very idiotic, oddly heroic thing, doncha think? Wouldn’t have pegged Jay as one of those, but he’d got a heart that one,” John said. “I’m mentally gagging just thinking about it. You know, I never understood his infatuation with you! It’s absolutely disgusting!” John laughed loudly.

Bruce turned towards Jack. “Is he okay?”

Jack smiled and patted Bruce’s shoulder awkwardly. “He’s excited.”

Bruce nodded, as if it made all the sense. “He’s… excited.”

“And the thing is,” John kept talking, as if they had not been talking about him. “Jay is way too emotional for his own good. Gets way too attached, to the point where he becomes a self-sacrificing little bastard like you and your little birds or your blue bestie over in Metropolis.” John took a sharp turn, tires screeching on the asphalt and then onto gravel road of Gotham’s countryside. “It’ll probably kill him one day!”

John zoomed across the road, leaving nothing but echoes of notorious laughter and a large cloud of dust.

~

They stopped in the middle of the road.

“Why did we stop?” Bruce asked, still gripping the seats tightly. Not only did John’s car not have seatbelts, but Bruce was usually more used to either being in control of the driving or having Alfred drive while he sat in the back of a limo.

“Jay’s here, duh,” Jack said, hopping out of the car. “C’mon, Bats. Suit on, let’s go.” From one of his pockets, he pulled out a pair of twin knives, inspected them, before tucking them away again.

Bruce shook his head in disbelief as he pulled his suit on piece by piece. By the time he pulled his cowl over his head and adjusted his cape, Jack and John had already gone through the plan twice and their weapons sharpened and ready to go.

Bruce was slightly annoyed. “Don’t you guys get worried you’ll die without the protective gear?”

Jack shrugged. “Oh, we don’t mind as much. See, we don’t have this playboy personality to keep up, so that’s the plus side of being a villain.” He grinned at Bruce, who scowled back. “You should try it sometime! Does wonders for the soul.”

John led, starting into the woods with Bruce and Jack following.

Bruce was not used to being a follower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a rather chilling thought today. I really, really, REALLY do not like clowns? Like, it terrifies me. Trust me, I love scary movies, but I could not bring myself to watch It. That one Supernatural episode about imaginary clowns? I was not okay with that. But how the hell did a murderous, psychotic, killer clown (three in this story) end up as a favorite character as mine? It truly alarms me, but I will not think too much into it. Otherwise, I will probably drive myself crazy, so I will just stop, haha.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this, even though it's way too late! But this is my third update today, and I'm dead tired. Another update in a day or two!


	5. Cry Me A River, Brucie

They stopped in the middle of the road.

“Why did we stop?” Bruce asked, still gripping the seats tightly. Not only did John’s car not have seatbelts, but Bruce was usually more used to either being in control of the driving or having Alfred drive while he sat in the back of a limo.

“Jay’s here, duh,” Jack said, hopping out of the car. “C’mon, Bats. Suit on, let’s go.” From one of his pockets, he pulled out a pair of twin knives, inspected them, before tucking them away again.

Bruce shook his head in disbelief as he pulled his suit on piece by piece. By the time he pulled his cowl over his head and adjusted his cape, Jack and John had already gone through the plan twice and their weapons sharpened and ready to go.

Bruce was slightly annoyed. “Don’t you guys get worried you’ll die without the protective gear?”

Jack shrugged. “Oh, we don’t mind as much. See, we don’t have this playboy personality to keep up, so that’s the plus side of being a villain.” He grinned at Bruce, who scowled back. “You should try it sometime! Does wonders for the soul.”

John led, starting into the woods with Bruce and Jack following.

Bruce was not used to being a follower.

~

They walked silently into the forest, with only the sounds of stick and dead leaves crunching under their feet.

They walked for about ten minutes before they came across an abandoned hunting cabin. Bruce frowned. He knew every part of the forests surrounding his house. He never knew about this hunting cabin.

As they approached, there was suddenly a very loud bang from the cabin followed by a low, guttural groan. Jack and Bruce looked at each other, John not even hesitating, before they ran into the cabin.

Bruce took down the door with one heavy body slam. The all ran in, weapons raised.

Jay was there, pinned against the wall with his feet dangling a few inches above the ground. He was letting out a choked laugh. And holding him against the wall, with only a single hand, was an unfortunately familiar figure.

“I thought you were dead,” Bruce growled.

Jay laughed weakly. “F-Funny thing. I did, too!” He coughed, blood spilling from the corner of his mouth. “But, here he is!”

Bane. A big, lump of ugly evilness that Bruce was so sure died in Rome.

Bruce saw red. He was beyond angry, and adrenaline coursed through his body.

He punched Bane in the back of the head. The man dropped Jay and turned around and laughed loudly, the sound grating and a lot worse than Bruce ever thought Joker’s laugh was.

“Batman,” Bane laughed. He noticed the other two as well. “And… company.”

“You fucking let go of my brother!” Jack raged forward, slamming into Bane and stabbing him right in the heart. But his knives were sort small, so maybe they did not reach Bane’s heart completely. Not to mention, he had a thick layer of armor on.

Bane punched Jack in the face, sending him flying back. Both John and Bruce went after him next, attacking him at once. Bruce punched, but Bane blocked and grabbed his fist. Reflexively, Bruce went to punch with his other fist. His bare fist. Seeing that he never took his other gauntlet from Damian, his skin was rather exposed. What an idiot he was feeling like right now.

Bane caught his other fist and crushed. Bruce cried out as he felt fingers breaking. John took this moment and pumped several rounds of bullets through him.

Bane fell to his knees, Bruce’s fist still crushed in his hand. Bruce tried using his other, now freed hand, to pry open Bane’s fingers, but he was too strong.

“You can never kill me,” Bane hissed, crushing harder. More bullets. And a couple more of Jack’s knives. Blood spurt out of his mouth. “I will n-not die until the B-Batman dies!”

A large metal pipe came down on his head, and he slumped onto the ground.

Jay stood above him, arms shaking from holding the pipe, and he was leaning heavily on one foot. “The Batman is mine!” He hissed at the currently unconscious Bane.

Bruce groaned as he peeled Bane’s fingers away. He could not move his other hand. Definitely broken.

He looked up at Jay, who let the metal pipe clang to the ground.

“Thanks,” he said. Then, he turned to John, who had his gun raised at Bane still, pointed at his head, with a hateful look on his face. “John.”

John’s eyes snapped to Bruce. They exchanged glares for a moment. “Oh, come on. Seriously? He just tried to murder all of us!”

“No. Not even him.”

“Bruce-”

“John, no. It’s non-negotiable.”

John’s hand tightened around the gun. “What are you going to do to stop me? You heard him. If we don’t make sure he’s dead right now, he’ll come back for revenge. You know it.”

Bruce sighed. “Let him. A life is a life, no matter how much they don’t deserve to have one. Many a times, I’ve told myself the millions of lives I could have saved had I just killed you guys, instead of shipping you off to Arkham. But I never did, did I?”

“Mistake that was,” John snarled. “I’m not you, Bruce. I don’t have the same love for humanity as you do. Especially not scum like him.” He kicked Bane hard. The beast of a man did not stir.

“You’re both criminals! You both kill people! What’s so different between you and him?” Bruce asked angrily.

“For one,” John said, his face pulling into a scowl. “Sometimes, I actually fucking have a heart!”

Bruce opened his mouth to yell back. But two loud shots rang out. Bruce turned his head to look at Jack, who had fired twice into the ceiling. He also had a frown that matched his brother’s, and he was supporting Jay, who looked ready to pass out. “Stop fighting, will you?” He snapped. “John, stow the fucking gun away. Jay’s lost a lot of blood, we can’t come all this way just to have him die on us, can we? Bruce, stop whining, stand the fuck up, and help me with him.”

They were silent for a moment. Then, John put the gun away. “You owe me,” he said, pointing a long finger in Bruce’s face. He started towards the door.

“Actually, we’re even,” Bruce called after him. “Helped you find Jay, remember?”

~

The car ride back into Gotham was long and awkward. John did not drive like a maniac anymore, mostly because he was busy yelling at the barely conscious Jay, who was lying down in the back seat, with Bruce holding his head and his cape wrapped around his body.

Even when dealing with his half-dead brother, he refused to get any blood stains in his car.

“-most reckless thing you’ve ever done, you know that, Jay? Do you know how fucking worried I’ve been? Can you guess how much sleep I’ve gotten since you went missing?” John asked. “I have been up day in and day out, wondering where the hell you’ve gone to, when the hell I’ll see you again, or even if I ever _will_ see you again!”

“Watch the road, John,” Jack chided half-heartedly. The car jerked back into its lane.

“And not only do you get yourself kidnapped, without permission, or a note taped to the fucking fridge, you escape and then go back?” John roared. Cars in the opposite lane beeped at him. “What the fucking hell were you thinking? Were you _trying_ to get yourself killed? Because if you were, you can fucking believe I will finish the job for you, you fucking brainless idiot!”

Bruce frowned. “Hey,” he started.

“No! You shut your mouth, too, Bruce Wayne! You need to get your fucking temper under control! One word, and suddenly a volcano exploded in your brain, and veins start throbbing under that scary cowl of yours! You make assumptions faster than cancer cells multiply, and those assumptions of yours do nothing but harm! Sometimes, I wonder how you even get out of bed in the morning! You’re such a fucking mess it’s a miracle you’re still alive! And not to mention-”

“Okay, John, that’s enough,” Jack said sharply.

“Do you dare tell me what to do, little brother,” John hissed, turning on Jack. “Had you been doing what you were supposed to, making sure Jay was okay, none of this would have fucking happened in the first place. It’s also your job to get updates on what’s going on in the criminal world, is it not? SO HOW THE FUCK DID WE NOT KNOW BANE WAS ALIVE?!” John was turning slightly red. He pulled sharply into an alleyway, knocking over a couple trashcans.

Jack sulked.

They screeched to a halt, wheels smoking, and all occupants of the car jerked forward.

John got out of the car and slammed the door behind him, heading into the Jokers’ safehouse without a second look back.

Bruce met Jack’s eyes in the mirror.

“Is your butler like that?” Jack asked.

“Less angry, more disappointment. But yeah, pretty similar,” Bruce said dryly. “Is he going to be like that for the rest of the day?”

Jack laughed humorlessly. “Probably. Best stay out of his way. I order some of his favorite pizza. That’ll probably calm him down faster. But until then, keep a low profile around him.”

Jack opened the door and got out of the car. Bruce followed, and carried Jay in his arms as well. He mostly relied on the arm without the broken arm. Jay was mostly conscious, but obviously weak. He groaned, looked around and let his head drop.

They climbed the few flights of stairs up the safehouse, and Jack kept the door open so Bruce could set inside easily.

He set Jay down on the large sofa. Jack brought out a first-aid kit. Bruce stood by and handed Jack whatever he called for. He watched as Jack slowly stitched and bandaged Jay back up.

Then he handed Jay a bottle of water along with a few painkillers. “There ya go,” Jack said, shifting Jay into a sitting position. “I’m going to make some tea.”

He left, and Bruce sat down across from Jay, who had definitely looked worse, but he did not look great now either.

Jay gave Bruce a lopsided smile. “Hey, Batsy. Miss me?” He finished off the bottle of water and tossed it aside. “Um, thanks.”

Bruce blinked, surprised. “You’re… welcome.”

“Sorry about… your hand. That might put you out of commission for a couple days at least, right?” Jay asked, nodding at Bruce’s swelling and broken hand that had been hastily wrapped as well.

Bruce shrugged. “I’ll make do.” He met Jay’s eyes. He wondered how many times he had stared into Joker’s eyes and not been able to tell the minute differences between them. Jay had the lightest shade of green between them. It was hard to tell in the darkness, but in the light, Jay’s eyes were more grass green, Jack’s a deep emerald, and John’s had hints of olive.

Jay stood up and walked slowly across the living room to where Bruce was sitting. Bruce leaned back into the couch, his eyes never leaving Jay’s.

Then, Jay slowly lowered himself onto Bruce’s lap, his hands running up Bruce’s slightly bruised torso, tracing over the bat on his chest, and coming to a rest on his shoulders. He pressed forward, aligning his own chest to Bruce’s.

Bruce’s breath hitched the slightest bit. Now, he could see that Jay’s eyes also had specks of gold and ringed in a lighter green shade. His skin was still pale, but not as pale as his brothers’, as he did not have layers of greasepaint on it anymore. A couple streaks of dirt ran down his cheek like dirty tear tracks.

Bruce reached up to wipe them away with the thumb of his good hand. Jay leaned in, their breaths mixing for a moment before he closed the distance, kissing Bruce full on the lips.

Bruce should have expected it. He should have seen where this was all leading to, as nearly anyone could, but he was still caught awfully off guard. His eyes widened and he stiffened the slightest.

It was definitely not his first kiss, not even his first kiss with a male. But it certainly was not a kiss he would expect from a man who is a psychotic murderous clown. It was a very innocent kiss, a simple press of lips against lips.

Jay did nothing else. His hand stayed on Bruce’s shoulders, gently resting there, a comfortable pressure. His presence on Bruce’s lap did not seem sexual at all, despite the lewd position.

But Jay did not pull away. Neither did Bruce, even though he was perfectly free to.

“Ahem,” came a loud clearing of the throat: John.

And loud giggle that was immediately muffled, followed by the crashing and breaking of china: Jack.

Jay pulled back quickly, and both he and Bruce turned to face his brothers, who were standing in the doorway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me a comment! I hope you enjoyed this story! <3


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